


waiting game

by zigsexual (anythingbutloud)



Series: the driam vignettes [7]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, M/M, big angst!!!! big FAT angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-10-04 18:36:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutloud/pseuds/zigsexual
Summary: riley and drake have a heart-to-heart. maxwell shows his cards. the coronation comes sooner than anyone has planned.





	waiting game

**Author's Note:**

> this brings book one to a close!! next up, the hunt to clear riley’s name, wherever that might lead. sorry this one is long as fuck.

Drake agrees to help Maxwell with the party more for himself than for anything else. It’s an excuse to keep busy when all he wants to do is drive off a bridge. Plus, Maxwell has all sorts of expensive whiskey stored away in that mansion of his, and Drake is not above being drunk today.

Halfway through the afternoon, Bertrand puts him and Riley to work on the centerpieces to keep them out of the way while he yells at Maxwell. Riley — whose time with the Beaumonts has been limited, though still extensive — looks concerned, shooting furtive glances over to the corner where the two brothers stand, arguing.

“That’s normal,” Drake says, taking the bouquet from her hands and dumping it unceremoniously in a vase. “Bertrand is calmest when he’s yelling at Maxwell about something.”

Riley seems unconvinced. “I’ve never seen him act like that.”

“You’ve never seen him throw a party before,” Drake hands her a piece of ribbon. “Can you please tie this? If I do it, Bertrand’s just going to yell even more.”

She takes the ribbon from him, wrapping it around the vase, finally focused back in on their project. “Did you ever go to their parties?”

“Not unless I had to.”

“Why would you have to?”

He catches himself, pausing while she finishes her bow. “I, ah… sometimes Liam asked me to go with him. Y’know… so he’d have someone to talk to.”

It sounds stupid as soon as he says it, but she doesn’t press, only straightening up to survey her work. “You guys are really close, right?”

Drake surveys her warily. “Yeah.”

“Does he ever… talk about me?”

“Brooks,” Drake frowns, “I’m not giving you dirt on Liam so you can get the edge up on everyone else.”

“No, no — sorry, that’s not what I meant.” She sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “It’s just… he and I were talking the other day, and he asked me if I thought I could be Queen, and… god, I don’t know. It hasn’t even been that long, and I like him, don’t get me wrong, but…”

She bites one of her nails, pacing around the table. “This is just… a lot? You know? I mean, getting married? Becoming the Queen? I’m not even _thirty_. I still don’t really understand what a 401k is. I haven’t even bought my own _health insurance_ before.” She looks up at Drake, wide-eyed. “Does Cordonia have socialized medicine?”

“Hey, Brooks, Jesus,” he grabs her shoulders, forcing her into a stop. “What are you on about?”

“I’m freaking out!” she hisses, pushing his hands off her. “What if I don’t want to get engaged? This is all so fast, I don’t even know what I’m  _doing_. Marrying a prince? I mean, what if I —”

She cuts herself off, covering her face with a frustrated groan. Drake glances over to make sure no one else has noticed, but Bertrand is still berating Maxwell, hands gesturing wildly.

It’s been hard to hate her lately, this girl in front of him. She hasn’t ended up quite how he expected her to be, and she’s shied away from the typical suitor behavior ever since she arrived. He understands why Liam likes her, even if he desperately wishes he didn’t. But this — holding everything he’s ever wanted in her hands and folding before she even draws a card?

“You’re not serious, are you?” he says, “Do you know how many people would kill to be in your shoes? You’ve got everything handed to you on a silver platter and now it’s not good enough?”

“This isn’t about you and your ‘nobles are trash’ bullshit!” she says back, level with him in a way he hadn’t expected. “I’m trying to _talk_ to you. I just… I thought maybe by now you would finally admit that we’re friends.”

“What?”

She lets out a loud sigh, plucking at a leaf on their floral arrangement, slowly pulling it off the stem. “Drake, did you ever have a girlfriend?”

He stares at her. “I’m not following.”

“I’ve only dated like, a handful of guys back home, and it was never anything serious. Never anything where I thought I wanted to marry them.” She picks at another leaf. “And with Liam… how am I supposed to _know_ him when it’s only been a few weeks? I’ve always been game for crazy shit, but this… this is next level.” She glances up at him, something serious in her eyes that makes him listen. “Am I making the right choice? You know Liam, probably in a way I never will. What do I do if he actually asks me to marry him?”

“I…” Drake isn’t sure what to say, torn between breaking his own heart and breaking Liam’s. Riley is tearing apart pieces of leaf in her fingers, letting them fall on the ground like confetti in front of him. “Well… what do you want? Do you want to marry him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t _know_.”

Drake sighs. “Brooks, you’re giving me nothing to work with here.”

“That’s the root of the problem, I guess.” She shrugs. “I don’t really know anything at all.”

“Didn’t you ever, like… plan your wedding or something? Girls do that, right? You never thought about what the person you’d be marrying would be like?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “You literally have a sister, you don’t have to act like I have cooties.”

“That’s not — okay, look, _you’re_ the one who asked me for help with this.”

“Fine.” Riley pauses, thinking. “I’ve always pictured myself with someone who makes me laugh. The kind of person I know I can always have fun with, even on the worst days. Someone loyal and generous, who doesn’t take himself too seriously. Marriage is supposed to be a lifetime with your best friend, right? That’s what I want — a guy who will be my best friend, who I can’t wait to wake up to in the morning.”

She glances over at Maxwell again, frowning when she sees that Bertrand has now taken to reading aloud a printed-out bank statement he appears to have just been carrying around the whole time. “You sure we don’t need to intervene?”

“Yes.” Drake swallows against the knot that’s risen in his throat at her words. Every time he thinks it’s gotten easier, he’s wrong. “Listen, Brooks…”

Bertrand’s voice shatters the moment, footsteps loudly echoing across the floor of the banquet hall, “Have you only finished the one table? In all this time? Good _grief_.”

Riley slips away from Drake as quickly as possible, apologizing to Bertrand as she grabs a new bundle of flowers and heads to the next table, busying herself arranging. Bertrand follows after her, criticizing her technique.

Maxwell sidles up next to Drake. “Well, that was fun.”

“Sounded like it.”

He glances over at him, a sad smile on his face. “Do you want a drink?”

“God, yes,” Drake replies, and the two of them slip out before anyone else can notice.

—

Miraculously, the party goes off without a hitch — at least as far as Maxwell’s definition of ‘a hitch’ is concerned. The King and Queen make their customary appearance, the horses are inexplicably released into the halls, and Bertrand doesn’t ruin any of the festivities. All in all, they’ve managed to pull off their ruse quite successfully.

Liam leaves right around the time things get particularly crazy, citing his need to be well-rested for the coming coronation events. No one can blame him, but Maxwell still attempts to spray him with champagne before he makes it out. The King’s Guard intercepts him twice.

Drake had spent most of the night avoiding Liam, finding reasons to stick close to the bar, too many memories of parties just like this one where they’d been at each other’s side long into the dawn. He’s tried to keep himself busy (as busy as one can be when an army of staff is constantly there at your beck and call), tried to focus on anything other than the rapidly looming coronation, but as the party comes to a close, he finds himself halfway through a bottle of Irish whiskey with nothing at all to show for it.

Now he’s left with the remains of their motley crew, sprawled around Maxwell’s room as an escape from the lingering debauchery below. Riley is drunk, laughing too long and talking too loud, one arm draped around Maxwell’s shoulders as she tries to teach Hana the rules to “Truth or Dare.” As if there were rules in the first place. Drake is quiet, staring off into the fireplace listening to the three of them yell over each other all at once.

“You’ll play, right?” Riley asks, poking at him with her foot. “I wanna know your _secrets_ , Drake.”

“No thanks,” he responds, edging away from her. “I’ll pass.”

She pouts, turning to Maxwell. “Why won’t he do it? I wanna _know_.”

Drake rolls his eyes. “Listen Brooks, I’ve been down this road before, and you can’t win with Maxwell. All his dares are personal humiliation like you’ve never seen, and truth is even worse. I’m going to bed.”

He moves to stand up, but Riley grabs his arm, an exaggerated frown on her face. “Please? It’ll be _fun_. You never let me have fun, Drake.”

“Have your own fun without me, I promise it’ll be a lot better.”

Riley grins, closing her eyes and pulling his arm against her cheek, fingers like a vice grip. “Not letting you go until you say yes.”

Great. He’s had too much whiskey to deal with this. He looks over to Maxwell for support, but Maxwell only shrugs. “The lady has spoken. I promise I’ll go easy on you.”

“Ugh, fine, just —” He shakes his arm in an attempt to get her hands off him, but she’s relentless. “Let _go_ already, Jesus. I’m sitting down, okay? I’m sitting down.”

Riley drops his arm, clapping her hands together gleefully. “I’m starting! My turn first!” She leans back into Maxwell, her hair falling over his shoulder. “Hmm… Max? Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Maxwell says, not hesitating for a moment.

Riley looks confused. “Oh. I didn’t want that.”

“It’s the rules,” Hana pipes up, demurely sipping some fruity drink she’s been working on over the past hour. “You just explained them.”

Riley crosses her arms, sitting up. “Well, now I don’t like them.”

“Maxwell never does truth,” Drake says, rolling his eyes, “that way no one can ever verify any of the ridiculous rumors he spreads about himself.”

Maxwell holds up a hand. “How dare you, I do not _spread_ rumors about myself. I’ll have you know I never pick truth because I’m an open book, so it’s just boring. I don’t like boring.”

“You’re not an open book,” Riley says, making a face. “That’s why I wanted you to say truth. You’re a locked book. Empty book.”

“Am not!” Maxwell replies indignantly, looking around the room at the others. “Come on, I tell you guys _everything_.”

Drake just shrugs, and Hana adds, “Well, if you’d really like to know, that’s not usually the case.”

“Ugh, fine,” Maxwell sighs dramatically, turning back towards Riley. “Truth it is then.”

Riley grins, clapping her hands again before she seems to realize this means it’s her turn to ask the question. She pauses then, brow furrowed in thought, before finally saying, “Have you ever been in love?”

“Nope,” Maxwell answers almost instantly. “Alright, my turn now.”

“Open book, my ass,” Riley lays back onto the floor, spreading her arms out like a starfish. “I don’t like this game anymore.”

“Too late,” Maxwell singsongs, pointing at Hana. “Truth or dare?”

“Oh,” Hana looks scared. “Dare?”

“I dare you to go streaking in the banquet hall right now.”

Hana goes red. “Do I have to take off my clothes?”

Maxwell sighs. “Hana, you _do_ know what streaking is, right?”

Riley sits up again, the grin back on her face, already stumbling to get up while using Maxwell’s shoulder as a crutch. “I’ll do it with you! We both go together!”

“That’s not the rules —” Hana tries to interject, but Riley is already making her way over to her, holding out her hands. With a glance between Maxwell and Drake, Hana relents, letting Riley pull her up to her feet.

“Come on Drake,” Maxwell says, standing up as well. “We have to supervise to ensure the dare is completed accordingly.”

Begrudgingly, Drake follows the lot of them into the hallway and down the staircase, slick with spilled champagne, careful to make sure Riley doesn’t accidentally take herself out as she wobbles her way down. She’s already trying to take off her dress before they’ve even reached the room, a flurry of tulle getting caught in her hair. Hana attempts to help, the two of them giggling when Riley finally emerges in just her underwear, raising a single fist triumphantly.

“Now you!” She announces, pointing at Hana, who is already blushing something fierce. The banquet hall is right ahead, where only hours earlier Drake had been fussing with floral arrangements. God, the things he does for these people.

Maxwell opens the doors, the place still set up just how they’d left it, plates and silverware now cleared from the tables. Riley busies herself unzipping the back of Hana’s dress, even as Hana attempts to protest that she doesn’t need any help, face reddening even more with each passing second.

When the dress pools around her ankles, Hana instinctively covers herself with her arms. Riley laughs, brushing Hana’s hair back over her shoulders. “Don’t hide, silly! You’re hot!”

“Oh, I —”

“We both are!” Riley grabs Hana’s hand, tugging her along as she starts off towards the other end of the room, unsteady on her feet. “Enjoy the show everyone!”

As their footsteps fall away into the vastness of the room, Drake takes a deep breath. “I don’t know how you handle that one.”

“She’s fun,” Maxwell smiles. “I’ve never had anyone fun live with us before. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, I kinda… I overheard Bertrand earlier.”

“He wasn’t exactly being discreet.”

“Are you guys good? I mean —”

Maxwell holds up his hand, looking at Drake with one eyebrow raised. “No free truths.”

“Oh, come on,” Drake leans back against the wall, surveying Maxwell warily. “Some open book you are.”

“You have to ask.”

“Ask what?”

“You know what.”

Drake lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Ugh, fine. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Hana and Riley have reached the other side of the room now, both laughing and out of breath, Riley steadying herself on Hana’s shoulder. Drake watches them for a moment before turning back to Maxwell. “Do you have a thing for Hana?”

“Hana?” Maxwell laughs. “No way, she’s gay.”

“What?” Drake’s brow furrows in confusion. “No, she’s a suitor. She wouldn’t… did she say something to you?”

Maxwell shakes his head. “Nah, but it’s not like she’s subtle. She’s barely even looked at Liam, I’m pretty sure she didn’t kiss her ex-fiancé until they were actually engaged, and she blushes every time Riley touches her. I mean, look.” He points out at the two of them, now slumped down on the floor with their backs to the wall, Riley braiding Hana’s hair. Even from as far away as they are, Drake can tell Hana is flushed straight up to the tops of her ears.

“That’s… astute, I guess.”

“I know everything,” Maxwell muses. “You’d be surprised what you can learn when everyone writes you off as an idiot.”

“Okay then,” Drake says, slightly warier of Maxwell now. Maybe he’d been paying more attention to all of them than they’d previously thought. “If you’re not into her, why did you dare her to go streaking?”

“Not everyone has ulterior motives, Drake,” Maxwell answers, crossing his arms. “Sometimes dares are just fun. Also, you didn’t ask again. That one is a freebie.” He turns to look at Drake. “Truth or dare?”

“I know how you work, Beaumont. Truth.”

Maxwell considers him for a moment. “Are you fucking Olivia?”

“Jesus, um —” He pauses, mouth open, not sure how to continue, but the fact that Maxwell has even posed the question must mean he already knows the answer. “Okay, yeah, but it’s… it’s not like _that_ , I swear.”

“I knew it. Okay, your turn.”

“You’re not… I mean, don’t tell anyone that, alright? Nobody knows.”

Maxwell gives him an incredulous stare. “ _Sure_ , Drake. Nobody knows.”

“Ugh. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“When did you lose your virginity?”

Maxwell rolls his eyes. “That’s boring. On my birthday. But you don’t get to know which one.”

“Seriously? What’s your idea of _not_ boring, then?”

Maxwell glances over to Riley and Hana, almost as if he’s making sure they’re still out of earshot. Riley appears to be falling asleep in Hana’s lap, and Hana is stroking her hair gently while she gazes down at her face. Shit, maybe Maxwell was onto something with his earlier theory after all.

He turns back to Drake with a grin. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“When did Liam lose his virginity?”

“I —” The question catches him off-guard, and he fumbles for something to say, leaving the silence lingering between them for far too long. Maxwell isn’t smiling anymore, but he’s still looking at Drake with that curious expression of his, that stare that maybe really does know everything.

“Take your time,” he says quietly.

And Drake is certain then — from the way he glances cautiously back over at the girls, the way he’s lowered his voice at the subject — Maxwell knows.

“I don’t…” Drake still isn’t sure how to respond, grateful for the brief reprieve from Maxwell’s inquiring gaze. “I’m not, I mean — Liam’s very… private.”

Maxwell crosses his arms, leaning back next to him against the wall. “You both are.”

His heart is beating too fast again, echoing in his ears, yet mingled with all the fear and the worry in his veins is something else — something like relief. A tiny sliver of him that is almost grateful for the chance to remind himself that it wasn’t just him alone in this thing. That maybe, even with how hard they’d tried to conceal their feelings all these years, a part of Liam loved him enough to let them leak through.

Maxwell is silent, letting him think, or perhaps just waiting for him to speak. Drake bites his lip. “You remember the week I came back from college?”

“Yeah.” Maxwell glances over at him. “Why?”

Drake looks at him pointedly.

“Oh. _Oh_.” Maxwell raises his eyebrows, turning to look back out into the vastness of the banquet hall. “Wow. I didn’t actually expect you to answer. Respect, I guess.”

“If you _ever_ speak a word of that to _anyone_ —”

“Truth or dare is sacred to me, Drake,” Maxwell interrupts, “Don’t worry about it. Plus, I’m good at keeping secrets. Kept _that_ one for ages.”

Drake runs a hand through his hair, already feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “I can’t believe… I mean, you never _said_ anything.”

“What did you expect me to say?” Maxwell tilts his head. “’Hey guys, remember that time I caught you in the upstairs hall and Drake said he dropped something? Well, you may be interested to know that —‘”

“Oh god,” Drake is certain his face is red now. “You saw that?”

Maxwell scoffs. “Wow, you really do think I’m an idiot, don’t you? Liam was _literally_ putting his shirt back on, Drake. Also, I was standing there for like a full minute before either of you noticed.”

“So that would probably be the appropriate time to _say something_.”

“I was waiting for a natural break during which to announce myself, but you wouldn’t stop _making out_ —”

“Fucking Christ,” Drake sighs. “Is that how you found out?”

“Nah,” Maxwell smiles, only slightly smug. It’s enough to make Drake wish he were anywhere else in the world. “I knew _way_ before then. That was just further confirmation.”

“When did you know?”

“Uh, like Year Seven maybe? I’m perceptive.”

“Okay, it has _not_ been since Year Seven —”

“Drake,” Maxwell shoots him a knowing look. “You’ve hated every single girl Liam has ever been _remotely_ linked to. Remember when he said his celebrity crush was Blake Lively? You wouldn’t watch Gossip Girl with us for a _year_.”

Drake frowns, crossing his arms. “That’s totally unrelated. Gossip Girl is a terrible show and I hated it.”

“That’s not what you said before Blakegate.”

“Oh my god.”

Maxwell laughs, but there’s still something sad in his eyes. “I always wondered when you would finally say something to him. Or did he say something to you?”

“Nice try, but you didn’t ask. Also, it’s not your turn, and it’s none of your business.”

“Ah, the truth or dare touché.” Maxwell pushes off from the wall, nodding towards the sleeping figures that have become of Hana and Riley. “Come on, let’s get them back to the bedrooms.”

He starts off towards them, but Drake grabs his shoulder before he can go too far. “Wait. You haven’t… told anyone, have you?”

“Who would I tell?” Maxwell looks back at him. “You guys are my only friends.”

“Well… I mean, there’s Bertrand.”

Maxwell just laughs again, shaking off Drake’s hand. “I could fill a book with the things I don’t tell Bertrand. Three books, probably.”

Drake falls into step next to him, the two of them starting the long trek across the room. There’s something amicable there between them now, not so much a friendship (despite what Maxwell says, Drake is ever wary of the nobles), but certainly a kind of quiet understanding. As they walk together in silence for a few minutes, he’s grateful for it.

“Hey,” he says, stopping Maxwell one more time before they approach the two girls. “Thanks. Y’know… for not saying anything.”

Maxwell shrugs. “Sure. For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.“

“No, it’s not. Not really, anyway,” Maxwell says. “But if it makes you feel better, once Riley wakes up, I’m going to dare her to eat a ghost pepper.”

And he has to admit, that one does make him smile.

—

The coronation is upon them before anyone is ready, least of all Drake. He’s tried to play by the rules for once, worn a suit and only had a glass or two to drink beforehand, but it’s barely been fifteen minutes before he’s ready to jump off the palace roof.

When Riley arrives, she beelines towards him, much to his displeasure. Maybe she thinks his “commonness” will be a respite amongst the opulence of the occasion, but there’s irony in the fact that the only two commoners now have next to nothing in common.

He pretends not to see her until she’s practically standing in front of him, the skirts of her dress swishing as she walks. She looks beautiful — she always does — but there’s a part of that beauty that’s been ever so precisely engineered for this particular crowd.

“You look just like them,” he says, raising his drink towards her. “Congratulations.”

She makes a face. “Don’t say that. I’m still me.”

“Not for long.”

She eyes the glass in his hands as he takes a sip. “Let me guess, not your first one of the night?”

“It’s a _party_ , Brooks. Ease up.”

“ _You_ ease up,” she frowns, “I’m nervous, and you’re one of the only people I really know here, and you’re being a dick.”

“Maybe you should’ve started drinking earlier too,” he deadpans, looking over towards the receiving line where the King and Queen are standing with Liam. “Aren’t you supposed to be over there, anyway?”

She glances over too, following his gaze, and her shoulders tense up. “Yeah, I just… I’m not ready yet.”

“Ready for what? To get married? To become the queen?” He rolls his eyes at her, and she turns back just in time to catch the tail end. Her brow furrows.

“What’s your deal? You _know_ how scary this is for me, I… I don’t understand why you’re being such an asshole. I’m sorry that I’m not wearing Levi’s to a royal coronation, but —”

“That’s what you think this is about?” He scoffs. “You’re such a hypocrite, Brooks.”

“What the hell is up with you?” She says, voice raised. “Like you’re one to talk, anyway. Best friends with a prince? Living in the palace never wanting for a thing? What a rough hand you’ve been dealt.”

“You have no idea what my life is like,” Drake tells her. “You think you know everything, but you don’t know shit about me or anyone else here.”

“Because none of you will trust me with _anything_!” She yells, attracting a few looks from those closer by. Her lower lip quivers, and she takes a deep breath, steadying herself before she speaks again. “You can’t possibly know what it’s like to come into this world without a single ally. Liam has always had your back, from day one. But he can’t do that for me, because it’s ‘not fair to the others,’ or whatever. I’m already the outsider here, and all those girls hate me, and the press is just itching for a reason to hate me too. I don’t know what else I have to do to convince you that I’m not some gold-digging bitch, Drake. I’m just _me_.”

He looks at her, really looks, a part of him softening at her words. “Listen, I… I’m sorry, okay? I’m not trying to…” He sighs. “Fuck, I don’t know. You shouldn’t even be talking to me. You should just be enjoying this night.”

“So should you,” she says, “Your best friend is about to become the king. Go pop a bottle or something.”

“Like I said, Brooks,” he looks towards Liam again. “You have no idea.”

Something passes across her face at his words, a question she almost asks, but doesn’t.

“Fine,” she says instead, turning away from him. “I’m going to find Maxwell.”

“Great,” Drake retorts, “I’m gonna get some air.”

There’s a hallway just outside the ballroom that leads outside to the palace gardens, and suddenly he just desperately wants to be alone. He leaves his now-empty glass on a table and slips out of the room through a side door, already filled with relief as the din of the guests is hushed behind him. The hallway is silent except for the security posted every few feet, and they don’t pay him any attention as he starts off towards his destination.

He doesn’t get very far.

“Drake?” A voice calls out from behind him, couched in laughter. “Drake Walker, is that you? God, you look _exactly_ the same.”

Drake turns, teeth gritted. “Leo.”

The former heir to the throne claps him on the shoulder, his other hand firmly clutching a large glass of wine. “How the hell are you, man? Still hanging out with his royal highness?”

“Mhm,” Drake searches for an exit from this conversation, desperately scanning the hallway for anyone to pass Leo off to, but the area is completely deserted. This is what he gets for trying to have a moment alone. “Still ruining the family name?”

“Ouch,” Leo laughs again, holding up his hands in surrender, almost spilling his wine. “Guilty as charged.”

“No offense,” Drake asks, “But why are you here? Liam said you might not make it. I don’t think any of us expected you would.”

“Gotta make a few sacrifices when it comes to my brother, you know?” Leo takes a drink from his glass. “And this is a _nice_ cabernet to boot.”

“A few sacrifices.” Drake stares at him. “Right.”

Leo seems to sense the hostility, barking out another laugh in an attempt to break the tension. Drake doesn’t waver. “It was for the best, what I did. Dad never wanted me to be king anyway, we all know that.”

“Well, Liam sure didn’t.”

Leo appraises him for a moment, Drake crossing his arms as Leo’s steady gaze washes over him. Finally, he shrugs, taking another sip. “That’s life though, you know? You can’t always get what you want.”

Drake scoffs. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Hey, listen,” Leo taps his shoulder again. “Me and Katie… it only took a few weeks for me to know. That’s soulmate shit right there. When you fall in love someday, then you’ll understand.”

Drake’s hands ball into fists before he can even register what he’s doing, and then Leo’s hand has tightened on his shoulder, arm stiff against him as he pushes Drake back. “Hey, _Jesus_ dude —”

“Why the _fuck_ ,” Drake says, voice low, knuckles white, “do you think I came back from college?”

Leo blinks, taking a step back from him, head tilted in confusion. “I asked you to?”

“In what fucking world do I ever do what you ask me to?”

Leo pauses, letting his arm drop back to his side. “Wait… you and Olivia? Is that what this is about?”

“No, what the —” Drake lets out an exasperated sigh. “Why does everyone always think that?”

“You just kinda remind me of each other,” Leo shrugs. “Never thought you’d admit it though. Congrats, I guess?”

“You’re such a goddamn idiot.” Drake shakes his head slowly, looking off to the side. “I didn’t drag myself back to this godforsaken place for Olivia, you  _moron_.”

“Then —”

“It’s _Liam_ ,” Drake hisses. “It’s _always_ been for him.”

Leo pauses, and the realization takes a few seconds to dawn on him, but when it does he raises his eyebrows, a soft chuckle breaking free before he covers his mouth with his hand. “Damn, Drake. My baby brother, huh? I mean I always knew you were close, but…” He shakes his head, eyebrows still raised. “Would not have pegged you for that type.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

“Just,” Leo shrugs. “Nothing personal, man. I didn’t know, is all.”

“Of course you didn’t _know_ ,” Drake seethes, fingers curling in on each other again. “You never think about anyone but yourself. Did it ever even occur to you what you were asking him to give up? The life you took from him?”

Leo’s smile fades, his expression steeling into something reminiscent of royalty. “You don’t understand half as much as you think you do, Drake.”

“What is there to understand? You dropped the crown on your own brother just so you could fuck off with some girl you just met. You’ve been leaving Liam with your responsibilities for years because you know he’d never let anyone down. He’s twice the person you’ll ever be. If you’d ever given a shit how he feels, this would have been your coronation, just like it’s supposed to be.”

Leo twirls the wine in his glass. “Maybe you’re not wrong.”

“Oh, come on.” Drake clenches his fists tighter, jaw set in anger. “Now you want to act like you care? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve watched him pick up the pieces of your fucking mess? How many times I tried to hold him together when you seemed hell-bent on making sure he fell apart? He’d do anything for you, Leo. He thinks the world of you. And what a disappointment that is, knowing what a piece of shit you actually are.”

Leo just looks at him, devoid of any real emotion. “I won’t argue with you. I never deserved to be king.”

“Who cares about being king? You never deserved _Liam_.” Drake gives him one last disgusted look before turning around, heading back towards the ballroom. “Honestly, Leo? Go fuck yourself.”

He heads straight for the bar inside, ordering a double with no ice, leaning against the counter as he tries to relax his hands. God, he’d never wanted to punch someone so badly in his life. So much for getting some air.

He looks out at the crowd, already antsy, watching as the nobles move about in another traditional waltz. He spots Maxwell and Riley together, already laughing about something as he leads her into a spin, while Hana is caught up in what looks to be an incredibly uncomfortable dance with Rashad. God, he hates that guy. Poor Hana.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

The relief that floods through his veins at the sound of Liam’s voice is almost euphoric.

“Hey,” he says, looking up as Liam approaches, not even trying to conceal his smile.

Liam bumps his shoulder, leaning against the bar next to him. “Hey.”

“You were looking for me?”

“You didn’t come to the receiving line.” Liam’s eyes sweep over his face, taking him in. “I had something to tell you.”

“Never been patient enough for lines.” The bartender slides a glass across to Drake, and he takes a much-needed drink. “What is it?”

Liam leans in close, his breath warm against Drake’s skin, goosebumps rising on his arms as Liam whispers, “Meet me in the maze in fifteen minutes.”

Then he’s gone, as quickly as he came.

Drake breathes out slowly, fingers tightening around his whiskey before he throws back the rest of the drink, barely feeling the burn.

—

He gets to the maze early, wandering along the path for a few minutes as he makes his way to the center. Maybe once this place had been full of unknowns for him, but now he could follow each route by heart, mapping out his footsteps in memories.

He knows where Liam will meet him: the bench overlooking the pond where they used to spend hours together. The swans are still there, feathers glowing in the moonlight, and Drake watches them for a moment before he sits.

Part of him aches inside, being back in this place. Maybe he’s never really let the reality of this day set in; the knowledge that tomorrow morning Liam will be the most powerful person in the country feels not quite real. And the knowledge that he’ll be engaged is too painful to touch just yet.

He looks up when he hears footsteps approaching. It’s Liam, emerging around the corner tentatively, relaxing when he sees Drake on the bench. “You’re here.”

“Of course I am.”

Liam lingers against the hedge for a moment. “I worried… maybe you wouldn’t be.”

“Come on,” Drake cracks a smile. “I’m predictable.”

Liam edges away from the greenery, crossing over and sitting down at his side, careful to leave a respectful amount of space between them. Drake angles himself towards Liam, trying to memorize the way he looks in this moment, before he has to accept the inevitable.

“I just wanted to see you,” Liam says, looking down at his hands, folded neatly in his lap. “This day, it’s been… overwhelming would be an understatement.”

“I can imagine.”

“Remember when we used to spend the whole afternoon out here? Just the two of us? We had no idea. I wish I could have that back.”

“You said no wishing,” Drake reminds him, “It just makes things harder.”

Liam nods. “I know. I just… miss you.”

Drake takes a deep breath, turning back out towards the lake. Even though he can see the palace looming up in the distance, it feels too far away to be real. “Do you ever think about… about what could have been?”

“Always,” Liam answers. “Every single day. Every morning when I wake up, every night when I fall asleep. Do you really have to ask?”

“ _Liam_ ,” Drake whispers.

“You’re not the only one in this.”

Now it’s Drake’s turn to look down at his hands, too scared of what he might do if he turns back towards Liam. “It’s Riley, isn’t it? She’s the one you’re going to pick?”

He pauses a moment before answering. “Yes.”

Drake nods slowly, letting the words sink in before he speaks again. “Do you love her?”

Liam looks at him, a different kind of pain in his eyes. “Why do you keep asking me to break your heart?”

“At least you’ll be doing something with it.”

Liam is quiet again, but his hesitation seems to be less about Riley and more about present company. It gives Drake a little comfort.

“In a sense,” He finally says. “I feel very close to her. I like talking with her, and I admire her a great deal. I think she would be a good queen.”

“Can I ask… I mean, are things _real_ with her? Have you…” He trails off, not wanting to finish the question, not really wanting an answer.

Liam sighs, and it’s heavy with mixed emotions. “It depends on your definition of real. I mean, I haven’t… been with her, if that’s what you’re wondering. But… I’ve tried to make things real, I suppose. It’s just…” He sighs again, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing like you. Not even in the same realm of what it is with you. I could spend years trying to love her like that, but it would never come close to even the first seconds I knew I loved you.”

Drake looks up at him. “You’ve never told me about that.”

“When I knew?”

“Yeah.”

Liam pauses, thinking. “I… I suppose I first thought about the possibility of it when we went on that camping trip together, the summer before Year Ten? I couldn’t fall asleep for hours because I kept thinking about how close you were, what you might do if I touched your hand. I’d never been so nervous around someone before.”

Drake laughs. “I made you nervous? _Me_?”

“Yes,” Liam laughs too. “You drove me crazy for two years after that, always not-quite-flirting. I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

“I find this hard to believe.”

“Do you?”

“You’re the most capable, put-together person I know. I’m a fucking mess, and _I_ made you crazy?”

“Maybe your mess is contagious.”

“That’s the only plausible explanation.”

Liam smiles. “I have no idea how I got the courage to kiss you. It must have been adrenaline; I’d been trying to do it for months.”

“For months? And then you waited two years to do it again?”

“We’ve talked about this. I… I liked it too much. I thought if I started kissing you again I would never stop.”

 _But you did_ , Drake thinks. _You did._

“Okay, but when did you know for sure?”

“That I loved you?” This time Liam ponders for only a brief moment before answering. “The second I opened the door and saw you for the first time since you’d left for America.”

“Well, I guess Leo was good for one thing then.”

“He… has his moments.”

Drake bridges the space between them, resting his head on Liam’s shoulder. It’s tentative at first, but when Liam wraps his arm around his shoulders, Drake relaxes in against him.

“I think I’ve always loved you,” he says.

Liam leans his head against Drake’s, and Drake closes his eyes, willing time to stop for them right now, right in this moment.

“When I take the throne… we can’t do this anymore. This back and forth with us.” Liam’s voice is strained, the weight of his words too heavy. “I can’t keep leaving my heart with you when I need to be whole for the country. It’s not fair to you, it’s not fair to them, it’s not fair to me.”

“Don’t say that yet,” Drake sighs, lifting his head and meeting Liam’s eyes. “Give us one more minute. That’s all I ask.”

Liam nods, gazing back at him, arm still tight around his shoulders. Drake reaches up to touch his face, brushing his fingers through his hair before running them down along his cheek.

“If I kissed you right now,” he asks, “What would you do?”

Liam just looks at him with sad eyes. “You know what I’d do. I’d kiss you back. I’d do anything you asked me to, Drake. Anything at all. I would step down from the throne if you said that’s what you wanted.”

“ _Liam_ …” Drake’s voice breaks. The way Liam is looking at him makes it hard to focus on breathing.

“I would,” Liam says softly. “If you had asked me… if you had ever truly asked me to abdicate for you, I would have done it. But I think part of the reason I love you so much is that I know you’d never ask.”

“Don’t make me reconsider,” Drake whispers, letting his hand fall. Liam presses a kiss into his hair, the closest he’s let them be since that night after Leo’s abdication, and Drake feels so warm it’s like his blood has turned to fire in his veins.

He sighs. “So where does that leave us, then? I mean…”

“You’re my best friend,” Liam says. “You’re the person I trust most in the world. But it can’t be more than that. I know I… I’ve never been good at saying no to you. And I know I’ve asked things of you that I shouldn’t have. But after today, I need you to be my friend. And that’s all.”

“I…” Drake feels his chest tighten at Liam’s words.  

“So while we figure out what that looks like, it may be best that we… take a break from each other for a while.”

“How long?”

“As long as it takes,” Liam says, resigned. “Until we stop wishing.”

Drake can barely breathe, but even as the tears burn hot in his eyes, he knows Liam is right. This is the only way. This is what it’s always been coming to, ever since they knew he would become the King. He’d just thought… maybe it would get easier. Maybe it would be gentler.

“Will you say something?” Liam asks, and Drake can tell he’s crying too. “I hate myself right now.”

“You shouldn’t,” Drake manages, breathing in deep. “You’re a good person, Liam. The best person I’ve ever known. I hope… I hope Cordonia sees that in you. I hope Riley does too.”

Liam nods. “I love you. I always will.”

“I know,” Drake answers. “I love you too.”

It’s the last moment of the night that seems to make sense. Everything else passes in a blur — the King and Queen giving their speeches, Liam about to make his announcement, the buzz of insidious gossip ringing throughout the room, Riley’s face as she’s pulled towards the exit, the horror of Madeleine standing at Liam’s side.

Drake tries to run after Riley, the lesser of two evils as it were, but the King’s Guard removes her just as mysteriously as she came. And with that, fate is sealed in the worst possible way.

Maxwell calls every airline he can, pulling the noble card whenever possible, and somehow amidst the chaos of the evening, he manages to track her down. They’re huddled in Liam’s quarters like a war room, everyone stricken with confusion and grief and uncertainty.

When Maxwell finally leaves, promising to bring her back, it’s hours into the night. Hana heads out soon after, and the two of them are alone again, circumstances so impossibly shifted that it’s hard to remember the state of mind they’d both started the day with.

Liam is equal parts angry and terrified, pacing back and forth on the phone with all manner of people who might be able to help before finally giving up and sitting down on his bed, staring off into space.

“Do you want a drink?” Drake asks. “I can go grab something.”

“No,” Liam’s eyes are distant, empty. “I think I should just try to get some sleep. It’s late, and there’s so much to do in the morning…”

“Right.” Drake purses his lips. “Well… I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

He moves towards the door, already reaching out towards the knob when Liam speaks.

“Wait.”

He looks back over his shoulder, and this time Liam’s eyes are locked on him. “Will you… can you stay? I just… I don’t want to…”

Pain flashes across Drake’s face. “I thought… you said we needed to take a break.”

“Tomorrow,” Liam says, desperation in his voice. “We can start tomorrow. Please… I can’t be alone tonight.”

And Drake is already crossing back, already falling right into old habits. “Yeah, Liam, of course. Anything.”

Liam sinks into the pillows and Drake lies down next to him, both on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. A minute passes before Liam reaches over and takes his hand, intertwining their fingers.

In the silence, Drake can hear his own heartbeat louder than anything. It brings to mind a distant memory of ocean waves, of sand in his hair, of Liam.


End file.
